


Come Hell or High Water

by Cibeeeee



Series: Monsters [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oni Hanzo and Werewolf McCree, and maybe more?, monster au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-16 02:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13045002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibeeeee/pseuds/Cibeeeee
Summary: Christmas edition for the monster au, featuring: Oni Hanzo and Werewolf McCree! One week to Christmas, one prompt each day, 8 prompt in total, then suddenly Christmas is here! Spend the count down with our favorite boys





	1. Hot Beverage

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be short chapter daily prompt fill like the original Monster! If you haven't read it, it's A-OK! Only thing you probably need to know is that McCree and Hanzo are couples of professionals problem solvers in the monster world.
> 
> This is again, very self-indulgent. And I'm still very bust with school, or else I would have done a month long prompts again. The prompt list I'm going to be following is something I threw together:  
> 12/18 Hot Beverage 
> 
> 12/19 Fire 
> 
> 12/20 Mistletoe 
> 
> 12/21 Memories 
> 
> 12/22 Holiday Spirits 
> 
> 12/23 Home-cook Meal 
> 
> 12/24 Presents
> 
> 12/25 Christmas 
> 
> Since it's still the middle of the semester here, the chapters most likely won't be very long. It's just for fun while I struggle with school lmao.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy, and happy holidays everyone

“Mulled wine?”

 

McCree shook his head. His back was to Hanzo, who was sitting on the living room couch by the fire. The cabin they rented for the holiday was big enough for a huge stone fireplace in the living room, but not big enough for the kitchen to be in a separate space. They were both fine with it. The purpose for this trip was a job, anyway, small space meant they can keep an eye on each other easier.

 

“Chai tea,” McCree replied. His face was warmly red from the firelight. His head almost brushing the ceiling. His eyes crinkled when he looked at the snow drifting between the trees outside the window. McCree joined Hanzo on the couch, and handed him a cup of steaming hot tea. Hanzo’s had marshmallows in it, he didn’t remember buying any. Even the intense sweetness of spice and sugar wasn’t enough to satisfy Hanzo’s sweet tooth, and he never allowed himself to indulge in sweets – until McCree came along, and suddenly Hanzo was being spoiled with candies and cakes and sweetly hot beverage all the time – Hanzo did not have the self-restraint to refuse McCree’s doting.

 

“This is very good,” Hanzo said. All the marshmallows finished in a blink. McCree chuckled and turned slightly to kiss Hanzo’s horn. “But I feel like it’s missing something.”

 

McCree reached to the side of the couch, and grabbed one of the bottles of expensive whiskey their numerous past clients gave them for Christmas.

 

“More like it?” McCree wiggled the bottle, and Hanzo smiled slightly at him. McCree tore the wax seal off with his teeth and bit the cork out.

 

With the added buzz of alcohol, it was even easier to melt against each other. The house was old, and made of wood. Gushes of wind occasionally break the confines of the house and chilled them. The fire was useless in the cases of sudden gale, but the body heat of one another did wonders.

 

They sat in silence, enjoying the first day of the holiday, the last day of their rest. Warm cups in hand, warm lights around, and warmer companion beside. Tomorrow, their job start.

 

Now, they rest.     

 


	2. Fire

Their jobs were trifling at times, and dangerous others. When they accept a case, they can somewhat gauge the seriousness, but sometimes their world surprises them.

 

For example, there was one time when Hanzo, who was out of arrows, shot one of Cupid’s arrow at a Zagaz chasing McCree, then the Zagaz ended up falling in love with McCree, who was scared shitless at the sudden change of attitude. Hanzo thought McCree rather have the monster trying to kill him than woo him. They spend two weeks getting rid of the spell, almost having to call in Cupid themselves, which would’ve been awkward. That was a job when they were only hired to watch over an antique store during its restocking.

 

Another time, when they were hired to escort a rich Alp, where there was supposed to be a high-level threat that will try to stop them. Turned out it was only the Alp’s mother, screaming for her son to move out of the family castle. Hanzo and McCree left after thirty minutes of the petty family feud, satisfied with not getting paid.

 

So, from their experience, you cannot judge a job by its cover, or you’ll get burned.

 

_Literally_ , McCree thought, as the dragon’s flame engulfed him.

 

Something cool wrapped around him the same time the fire reached his fur. He could smell burning hair, and felt his fur charred and crisped, but not burning pain.

 

Suddenly, he was thrown onto the snow. It melted and sizzled around him. McCree transformed back to stop any further burning and practically hacked up his lungs.

 

A hand gripped his nape, another rubbed soothing circles on his back. McCree spat into the snow, and a string of drool clung to his lips as he struggled to breathe.

 

McCree knew who the hands belonged to. It felt unnaturally big, however. McCree breathed in heavily.

 

“Jesus,” his voice was so rough and scratchy it almost sounded foreign. “Did you jump in the fire for me?”

 

“Of course I did,” Hanzo said, as if McCree was being stupid on purpose.

 

“Fuck you,” McCree coughed into the snow. He could hear the dragon’s roar in the distance, and the claws scraping against trees. But now reprimanding Hanzo was more urgent. “Don’t ever do that for me again.”  

 

“This is the countless time you’ve said that, and have I ever listen?”

 

“Fuck no.”

 

“And have you ever listen when I ask you of this?”

 

McCree hacked up a storm again, this time he spat out some ashes mixed with fur. Hanzo patted his head.

 

“That’s what I thought,” he replied, and stood up. “Now stay still. I have a dragon to slay.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zagaz : an evil spirit in the folklore of Morocco. Zagaz is a disease spirit that brings death to infants
> 
> [Alp](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alp_\(folklore\)): A creature that is like an vampire or incubus in German folklore


	3. Mistletoe

McCree slumped down in the booth and let out a groan so loud it scared the waiter who was about to take their order away. Hanzo sighed as the means of getting a drink ran off, possibly begging his coworkers to take his place as a sacrifice to the table where a demon and a werewolf soaked in blood just sat down.

 

McCree cracked his knuckles and slid further down his seat. His legs reaching Hanzo’s side and after some bumping against each other, Hanzo grabbed McCree’s legs and put them in his lap. McCree covered his tired face with his hat.

 

A new waitress came. She was tall as the Christmas tree and had five arms as thick as the truck. She handed them menus and gave them a look, daring them to try and start any trouble in their tavern. Little did she know that McCree was on his way to meet Hypnos, and Hanzo was not keen on _not getting his drink._

 

“I’ll have a bottle of warm sake and he’ll have a glass of bourbon whiskey,” Hanzo said, handing the unopened menu back.

 

McCree nudged Hanzo’s stomach lightly with his shoe.

 

“And four orders of your most unhealthy meal,” Hanzo added. McCree gave a finger gun to the waitress without looking up. 

 

After she left, McCree started his grumbling. 

 

“Why do monsters like coming out during December? Messes with people’s holiday so much that we have to come and take care of it?” 

 

“Because there are more crowds.”

 

“Why do they want to steal people’s presents and eat their kids? Why can’t they just kick back with a glass a beer and be merry?”

 

“Why do monsters and humans or any other living beings do anything? Without them, we’ll be out of jobs.”

 

“I’m sure we would figure out something,” McCree finally lifted his hat to smile at Hanzo across the table. “Maybe open a small shop? Or a tavern, like this one? Maybe we’ll get a job in the human world like Angela. You would make a good sports archer, right? Maybe….”

 

When McCree drifted off, he sounded a little wistful. The waitress came with their drinks, left it in silence. 

 

Hanzo took a sip, relishing in the way the sake warmed his throat. “We can always do that, you know.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Nothing is stopping us. We can do everything you just said.” 

 

“Huh,” McCree tapped his fingers against his glass. “I guess I just think I could never get used to being back with the humans again.” 

 

“Humans aren’t that good, anyway.”

 

“That they ain’t, sweetheart.” 

 

They touched their glass and drank. McCree stared at the Christmas lights surrounding them. Hanzo at the cherry blossom pattern on the sake bottle. 

 

“Do you want to, though?” 

 

Hanzo looked up. “What?”

 

“Do you want to open a small tavern with me? Or not that, you know, just really mundane life? With me?” 

 

McCree wasn’t looking at him. The golden lights reflected in his red eyes. Hanzo gazed at him.

 

“I doubt anything would be mundane with you, Jesse McCree,” Hanzo said. “And I had hoped you would notice by now, that I would do anything as long as it’s with you.” 

 

McCree’s eyes widened, but he was still looking at the lights. By now it was obvious he was just refusing to look at Hanzo. Hanzo shook his head and chuckled. 

 

“Shut up,” McCree said tightly.

 

“I did not say anything.”

 

“You made me emotional and you’re laughing at me now.” 

 

“I would never.” 

 

McCree let out a groan, somehow even louder than before, and down his drink in one go. When he opened his mouth again, his voice was raspy and rough. 

 

“There’s a mistletoe above us,” he said.

 

“What?” Hanzo said. 

 

“There’s a mistletoe above us, Hanzo. Are you going to kiss me or are you going to ruin the Christmas spirit?”

 

“Why don’t _you_ kiss me?”

 

“Just fucking kiss me.” 

 

Hanzo slid McCree’s legs off his lap and slid into McCree’s seat. McCree sat up to meet Hanzo, their lips joining before the rest of their body did. Then their hands gripped each other, and their breathings melted against one another. Hanzo grazed a fresh wound on the side of McCree’s shoulder, it would have been his neck if Hanzo hadn’t knocked the blow away. McCree did not make a big deal of it. They never did. It won’t be the last time. Tired, rough breathing was the only thing they could hear. 

 

Until a cough came, and they broke apart languidly, lingering. The waitress was behind them with enormous plats of foods, looking impatient. 

 

“Your orders are all served,” she said after placing everything and left. 

 

Hanzo was still tangled with McCree in the small space. He turned back to McCree, who stole a quick kiss before Hanzo could talk. 

 

“There isn’t any mistletoe above us, right?” Hanzo asked.

 

McCree smiled, eyes half-lidded and soft. “Why don’t you check?”

 

Hanzo did not bother to. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hypnos](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypnos): is the personification of sleep


	4. Memory

There was a time when they book a room, it’s for one person. When they do jobs without another pair of eyes watching their backs. When they were used being greeted by a quiet room instead of television noise after bringing dinner home.

 

(Dinner used to be for one person, too, and they would have never referred to random hotel rooms as home just because _he_ was there).

 

There was a time – few thousand years for Hanzo and a good twenty years for McCree – when they spent the overly sparkling December alone. Drinking in wherever temporary stay they found themselves in, or just spending the holiday like any other time of the year.

 

Now, McCree was looking at some fried cheese with cranberry sauce in a stall at the local Christmas market. It looked interesting and like a heart attack in disguise. McCree got two.

 

Hanzo was waiting for him at one of the tables. They somehow had the luck to find a free one, although they risked being trapped in by visitors. Hanzo wrinkled his nose at the strong-smelling food McCree sat down before him.

 

“I got you mulled wine,” Hanzo handed a mug to McCree.

 

“Thank ya kindly,” McCree said, and dropped a kiss on Hanzo’s cheek. He didn’t get to see Hanzo in his human disguise much. “I have to say, you look quite handsome.”

 

“So you’ve said for the past few hours.”

 

“I can’t help it.”

 

Hanzo chuckled, “Yes, you can. You just don’t want to.”

 

“Have you been to a Christmas market before?” McCree asked. “What am I asking, of course you have.”

 

“It has been a very long time since I actually come to a Christmas market just for the sake of it,” Hanzo admitted. “I usually only passed by. Hardly go in, never wanted to.”

 

“I remember my first time,” McCree said. His mouth full of cheese and wine. “It’s also the first time I came to Europe. I was doing some negotiation with another gang,” he shrugged. “But I wasn't very impressed with it back then. Too many people.”

 

Hanzo finished his snack. McCree was eyeing another booth selling roasted pig knuckles with sauerkraut when Hanzo touched his hand slightly.

 

“Remember the first time we came to a Christmas market together?” Hanzo asked. McCree laughed.

 

“We lost each other, and had to use the ring to find each other. Took us ages.”

 

“It wasn’t until we found each other did we realize we could have just called.”

 

“Who would use cell phones when we have inconveniently romantic, magical rings that always point to the other person?”  

 

Hanzo laughed at McCree’s words. If it was a few years back, Hanzo would have scoffed at the thought of being sentimental instead of logical. But those days were gone, he would trade sentimental with McCree than logical by himself any day.

 

“I’m going to get more food,” McCree said. “If I get lost in the tourist crowd, come save me.”  

 

Hanzo waved his hand. The ring gleamed on his finger. “I will always find you.”  

 


	5. Holiday Spirits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sub title: give your local mythological spirits some attention
> 
> This one isn't very mchanzo, I just really want to write some cool holiday creatures, thank you all for indulging me
> 
>  
> 
> [Frau Perchta](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perchta)  
> [Grýla](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gr%C3%BDla)  
> [Mari Lwyd](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mari_Lwyd)  
> [Yule Cat](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yule_Cat)

What Hanzo stumbled across this night was something he thought he would never see. Around a small and dim fire in the woods, two figure sat in silence. From this part of the woods, the sounds of crowds from the town could still easily be heard, but these two obviously did not seem to care.

 

Hanzo coughed once. They looked up at him, then back down to the fire again.

 

“May I ask why you look so dejected? Around this time of the year?” Hanzo said. “I would think your kind would be frolicking among the shadows of houses.”

 

“What use is it if they don’t believe in you anymore?” One of them answered. “No children would care about silvers when their parents are buying them the newest cell phone.”

 

“And the bad ones?”

 

The other one answered this time. “People like you stopped us from eating children long ago.”

 

The first one said, “Never had an appetite for them anyway.”

 

“Maybe give kids coals like the jolly old man instead,” Hanzo deadpanned.

 

Both spirits gasped and groaned. “Don’t mention him!”

 

“There should be a law prohibiting a fictional fantasy taking away our jobs!”

 

“If he was real, at least we can kill him. How do you kill a tradition?”

 

“We were traditions, and here we are.”

 

Hanzo rejoiced in the fact that he was no seasonal spirits, but he also knew these ancient creatures could easily find new livings in their world if they choose to stop living in the past. He did not voice any of these.

 

“What are _you_ doing here then, demon?”

 

“Waiting for someone,” Hanzo replied.

 

“As are we, and they’re late. Who are you waiting for?”

 

“Someone.”

 

“Who could you be waiting for on such a night?”

 

A loud roar came from the woods. Hanzo recognized it immediately. He drew his bow and arrow in lightning speed just as footsteps of four-legged creatures came bolting into view. A wolf, a horse, and a cat. All enormous and equipped with sharp fangs.

 

McCree jumped over Hanzo’s head and landed in the snow just behind him. Hanzo aimed his arrow at the horse and cat who both tried to follow. McCree whined behind him and Hanzo wanted to shoot these two animals just for scaring McCree.

 

McCree transformed back and stayed behind Hanzo. “They tried to mate with me!”

 

Hanzo’s bow faltered. “ _What_?”

 

“I ain't screwing with you! I was just sitting there waiting for you, and these two showed up, started to do some weird movement. After twenty minutes I realized they were doing a courting dance or somethin’. The cat tried to sniff my ass!”

 

Hanzo lowered his weapon. The horse and cat obviously knew McCree, no matter what form he was in. Hanzo rubbed his nose. “Jesse….”

 

“Well, sorry for freaking out when a demon horse comes at you!” McCree shuddered at the sight of the skinless creature. “And I knew they were important creatures, so I didn’t want to _do_ anything….”

 

“There you two are,” the spirits by the fire said. “Are you late because you found a hot wolf? I thought our friendships were more important.”

 

The horse and the cat turned to the two right away, joining them by the fire.

 

“What’s this?” McCree asked quietly.

 

“The annual forgotten ghosts of Christmas past meeting, I would suppose,” Hanzo said. “Did you find any trees we could use?”

 

McCree perked up. “Yeah, there’s one just small enough to fit in our room.”

 

Hanzo smiled. McCree had suggested, a few days ago, that they could have a Christmas tree in their rented room. “We’re gonna be here for a while,” he had said, not meeting Hanzo’s eyes. “We could decorate it together, get into the holiday spirits. Might as well, right?”

 

McCree had been so sweetly embarrassed at his suggestion. Two men, far too old and cynical to indulge in silly human traditions on a normal day. Decorating a tree with someone he loved, Hanzo thought he would never see this day for himself.

 

Hanzo took McCree’s arm. They don’t get cold, but huddling together in the snow felt nice regardless. The murmurs by the fire forgotten, they strode off to find their tree.  

 


	6. Home-Cooked Meal

As the time grew closer and closer to the big day, restaurants started to put out signs and deals for takeout Christmas dinner. Hanzo doubted the quality of these foods, but it did catch his attention.

 

Hanzo was willing to admit he wasn’t a particularly good cook. He cooked survival meal quickly and efficiently, and pays people to cook actual cuisines for him. Now he regrets not ever learning it like Genji did.

 

It was nearing Christmas, and everything in the small town they decided to sojourn in breathed the reminder down Hanzo’s neck, and he couldn’t stop thinking about McCree.

 

So Hanzo left their cabin one early morning, faking excuse for some errand he had to run in town. McCree, never one to ask that many questions about other people’s business, gave him a kiss and sent Hanzo on his way. The domestic act sent sudden tingles down Hanzo’s body.

 

He had heard from the locals, out of all the restaurants that offered to cook a Christmas meal, there was one that stood out. A family-owned restaurant, so small there was only three tables in it, but made name nonetheless for its food. Their Christmas dinner was, according to locals, apodictically the best (certainly the most expensive), and Hanzo will not settle for anything less.

 

With more money than he can spend and more romantic intention than he would like to admit, Hanzo contacted the restaurant and inquired about hiring them to make a special kind of roast beef that Hanzo remembered McCree once said it was his favorite, but haven’t had a chance to try it again after he got into a gang. Hanzo listed out the herbs and spices McCree mentioned, and the chef seemed to know what to do. She warned Hanzo about the price. Hanzo told her to name it.

 

Now, on the day Hanzo had decided to surprise McCree, he left their cabin early morning, faking excuse for errands, and went to the market to shop for ingredients. He made sure to have everything, from the beef down to the salt, to his stander. After that was down, he brought it to the restaurant, which was closed to cope with Hanzo’s order.

 

Hanzo came back to the restaurant in the evening, and from the outside, he could smell the saporous scent of the roast. Pedestrians stopped by the smell, wondering what was cooking.

 

The chef was sweating, but beaming when she saw Hanzo. She handed the baskets of food over and asked if he needed her employees to help deliver. Hanzo picked up all the baskets, looked at the time, and declined.

 

When Hanzo got home, he could see McCree from the kitchen window. Hanzo pushed the door open with his hips, and McCree immediately poked his head around the corner.

 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled. “How’s your day –”

 

McCree stopped short, sniffed the air, and his arms dropped to his side.

 

“Is that…?”

 

Hanzo sat the basket down on the small living room table wordlessly. McCree lifted the cover, and stared dumbfoundingly at the food.

 

Hanzo was brimming with silent agitation like a boiling pot of water at McCree’s reaction. McCree’s mouth opened and shut a few times.

 

“Is this, the roast beef I told you about ages ago?”

 

Hanzo nodded. His hands in his coat pockets tightened into fists. McCree looked up at him.

 

“Hanzo…” McCree snaked his arms around Hanzo’s waist and dragged him down to the couch with him. Hanzo was glad McCree liked showing his feeling through actions, Hanzo was never good with words.

 

McCree’s lips left Hanzo aching for more, but just as he chased McCree’s smile, he caught a whiff of something very different from spices and herbs.

 

Hanzo looked to the kitchen, there on the table lay a spread of meat slices and vegetables, various odens, and plates of miso cutlets. In the middle, a simmering pot of broth. Hanzo looked back to McCree, who was now smiling sheepishly.

 

“You told me once that hotpot was something you always craved during winters,” McCree said, cocking his head. “But you rarely get to eat it because it was meant to be enjoyed with company.”

 

Hanzo dropped his forehead to McCree’s shoulder. McCree mirrored Hanzo’s action, and drew his arms tighter around Hanzo, rubbing comforting circles on his back.   

                                                  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will u believe me if I say they ate everything in one day. They're big boys


	7. Presents

Hanzo stretched his muscles, heard a few pops and wondered if he really was getting old. Tired and pleasantly sore from hours of sex at the mercy of a horny werewolf, even demons needed their rest. McCree lay next to him, still panting after Hanzo kissed him through his orgasm.

 

McCree chuckled, pressed his lips to Hanzo’s pulse, nuzzling the crook of his neck. “Damn, hon, you really took my breath away.”

 

Hanzo laughed. “Please, Jesse. It’s too late for that.”

 

McCree flipped on top of Hanzo so he could reach his cigarillo. Hanzo hummed at the weight, but McCree took hold of him and rolled over so Hanzo was on top instead.

 

McCree passed the cigarillo to Hanzo before taking a drag himself. Hanzo held the smoke in his throat for a few second before exhaling. McCree’s smoke joined his.

 

Goosebumps spread over McCree’s arms, so Hanzo covered him with blankets that pooled at their feet from before. McCree tucked Hanzo by his side.

 

“So, uh, hon,” McCree said, taking another drag. “I have something for you.”

 

“Oh?”

 

McCree leaned away to rummage at his bag, and he came up with something in his hands.

 

“You remember when we first met?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I tried to shoot you.”

 

“And I actually shot you.”

 

McCree laughed and scratched the small scar on his thigh. “You definitely did.”

 

“What about it?”

 

McCree released his grip, and a cord fell out. At the end, tied a smashed-in bullet.

 

“This is it,” McCree said. “The one I shot, and the one you blocked with your bow.”

 

“It left a dent,” Hanzo said, eyes not leaving the bullet. “Jesse….”

 

“It’s nothing much, and it’s definitely not pretty, but…”

 

Hanzo took it, wrapped it around his palm and simply stared at it. It felt so long ago, but in actuality, it was barely a few years. In this time, McCree had gone from strangers, to travel companion, to lovers and now to partners. Hanzo wished he still had the arrowhead from then, but it’s lost somewhere in the Andes.

 

McCree dropped a kiss on Hanzo’s temple when Hanzo closed his hands around the bullet and pressed it to his lips. McCree smiled at the hot skin under his lips.

 

“I wish I could reciprocate with mine,” Hanzo said.

 

McCree chuckled. “That’s all right, Hanzo,” he said. “You left a mark on me.”

 


	8. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is here and so is Christmas! Christmas probably just arrived for most of you, for me, it's over in ten minutes. Still, Happy Holiday to everyone! I hope you all are having a wonderful day no matter if you celebrate it or not (♡ >ω< ♡)

“Do you think it’s a bit creepy that we’re just sitting out here looking at this family?”

 

Hanzo huffed. “We are not just looking. We are paid to keep them safe on Christmas morning.”

 

“Because their great-great-grandfather made a deal with a monster and now they have to enlist help every year?”

 

“Yes, and they have employed me for generations, so do not be rude.”

 

“I’m not! I’m just not about sitting on a tree outside some random family’s house!”

 

Hanzo chuckled. McCree poked Hanzo’s stomach, trying to unbalance him. But Hanzo is a rock when he wants to be.

 

From the window, they can see the Christmas tree, obviously decorated by children but lovingly kept by the adults. The star was made of cardboard and colored with watercolor. Tinsel hung loosely around the tree, but the lights made everything look better. Presents piled high up beneath. Socks filled to the brim with candies. A plate and an empty cup on the table, once full of cookies and milk.

 

The sky was still dark, barely five o’clock in the morning, nothing yet. Hanzo said it was normal, the monster stopped coming after the third year of the family hiring Hanzo. Apparently deciding the first born child of every generation was not worth the beating Hanzo gives.

 

Suddenly, Hanzo stood up. “Stay here.” He jumped, landed on the roof soundlessly. At the same time, the lights in the house turned on. A little girl tiptoed into the living room, a blanket around her. She checked the plate and glass, smiling at the emptiness. Then she peeked into the socks, then she went to dig through the presents under the tree, looking for her name.

 

Hanzo stood by the chimney patiently. At last, the little girl put the presents back to their original place and dragged her heavy blanket to the unlit fireplace. She crouched in front of it, waiting.

 

McCree looked up to Hanzo just in time to see him drop something down the chimney. A faint but audible thump came from the house.

 

“What, you like her personal Santa?” McCree said when Hanzo joined him on the tree once again. They watched together as the girl pat the soot off the plastic bag and opened it happily.

 

“Cookies?” McCree asked.

 

“Matcha cookies,” Hanzo replied. “I had it on me a few years ago. Saw her come out looking at all the presents, I thought I would drop it down the chimney as a joke. She ended up really liking it. Made a habit of it now.”

 

McCree smiled. “That’s sweet of you.”

 

Hanzo coughed. He looked away as his midnight skin darkened. McCree pretended he did not notice and took out a thermos.

 

“I do not think it is wise to drink on the job,” Hanzo said.

 

“It’s cocoa, you twerp,” McCree poured out a cup. “Figured it would be a long haul.”

 

Hanzo accepted it. They passed the cup back and forth. The girl sat on the carpeted floor, eating matcha cookies, looking at the Christmas lights and the snow outside, waiting for the acceptable hour to wake everyone up for presents.

 

“Maybe next year I’ll bring some sweets for her too,” McCree said.

 

_Next year,_ Hanzo thought, with McCree by his side again. The little girl opening her usual cookies and finding new flavors in it. Would she be confused? Surprised? Happy?

 

McCree passed the cup to Hanzo again, but kept his hands wrapped around Hanzo’s for the warmth. Hanzo took a small sip.

 

He will just have to find out with McCree next year.

 


End file.
